The Beldham emerges as a striking addition to psychological horror, standing out for its haunting yet deeply empathetic portrayal of postpartum depression and maternal anxiety.
Directed by Angela Gulner in her debut, the film sets itself apart by focusing less on cheap scares and more on the unsettling psychological unraveling of its protagonist, Harper, a new mother battling inner demons and external threats, melding into indistinguishable terrors.
The title itself references old folklore about the “beldham,” a figure described as a birdlike crone feeding on infants, priming viewers for a supernatural tale.
However, the movie cleverly misdirects the audience, using horror conventions as a veneer to explore nuanced family dynamics, particularly the strained relationship between Harper and her mother, Sadie. This tension, marked by unspoken resentments and subtle disapproval, casts long shadows over the narrative from the start.
The film opts to tell the story predominantly through Harper’s perspective, effectively capturing the disorientation and paranoia commonly associated with postpartum mental health struggles.
This choice intensifies the atmosphere as the line between reality and hallucination blurs; eerie caws of crows, fragmented diary entries, and visions of a witch lurking within the walls intensify the unease.
These supernatural elements cleverly symbolize the weight of unresolved trauma and cyclical familial conflicts, lending a layered complexity to what might otherwise be a straightforward ghost story.
Emotional Turmoil Meets Supernatural Suspense
What truly distinguishes The Beldham is its treatment of motherhood as both a source of profound strength and painful vulnerability. Harper’s attempts to protect her baby are paralleled by her struggle to confront not only the supernatural menace but also her fraught history with her mother.
This emotional core resonates strongly with viewers who understand the intense pressure new mothers face, especially those wrestling with postpartum depression, a condition the film portrays with uncommon sensitivity and authenticity.
Katie Parker’s performance as Harper has been widely praised for its raw intensity and emotional realism. Her portrayal captures the unpredictability of postpartum emotional swings, moving effortlessly from tenderness to terror.

The Beldham (Credit: Quiver Distribution)
Unlike standard horror protagonists who fight external monsters, Harper’s real battle lies within the chaotic shifts of her mind and the generational trauma embodied in her mother’s presence.
The cinematography complements this emotional depth by restricting wide shots and focusing tightly on characters’ reactions and negative spaces within the home. This visual language conveys a sense of claustrophobia and entrapment, symbolic of Harper’s mental state.
The house itself operates as a character, a repository of past wounds and secrets, where every hallway echoes with unsaid words and unresolved disputes.
Adding to the atmosphere is the film’s sound design, which replaces traditional jump scares with unsettling, everyday noises amplified to heighten anxiety. For example, the persistent crowing and the haunting diary entries that Harper uncovers grow increasingly disturbing, weaving supernatural suspicion with psychological fragility.
The Shocking Reveal and Its Lasting Impact
The final act of The Beldham rewrites the entire story, pivoting it from a haunted house thriller into a poignant, tragic family drama. The twist forces the audience to reevaluate every scene leading up to it, casting new light on Harper’s experiences and the haunting itself.
According to critics, this reveal is not only clever but emotionally devastating, emphasizing themes of loss, sacrifice, and the complicated love between mothers and daughters.
This bold narrative choice demands patience from viewers, as earlier plot points may seem cryptic or disjointed before the climax provides clarity. Yet, this payoff transforms the film into something much richer than a typical horror experience.
It speaks to the universal pain of living in the shadow of family expectations and the fear of repeating inherited patterns of harm, a message backed by the director’s own reflections on familial role reversals and aging witnessed in her personal life.
Critics highlight that The Beldham’s impact lies in how it balances supernatural elements with deeply human stories. Rather than relying on spectacle, it crafts a layered narrative about psychological distress that feels urgent and relevant to those grappling with maternal mental health.
This approach resonates beyond genre boundaries, encouraging audiences to consider the invisible battles many new mothers face.
In sum, The Beldham is a striking mix of eerie supernatural horror and raw emotional drama. By centering on postpartum depression and family trauma through a supernatural lens, Angela Gulner’s film challenges conventional genre expectations.
It offers a haunting portrayal of motherhood’s darkest moments, sustained by powerful performances and an atmospheric, unsettling aesthetic. The emotional wrecking ball of its narrative lingers long after the credits roll, making it a must-watch for fans of horror with heart and depth.
“I Wish You All The Best,” directed by Tommy Dorfman, unfolds the story of Ben, a nonbinary teenager confronting the harsh reality of being kicked out by their ultra-religious parents upon coming out. This rejection strikes early and harshly, setting a realistic yet heart-wrenching tone.
Ben’s turn to their estranged sister Hannah, played with warmth by Alexandra Daddario, provides a ray of hope amid turmoil. The film doesn’t rush its emotional pace but instead sensitively traces Ben’s tentative steps toward rebuilding a life.
The muted color palette used in the cinematography echoes Ben’s initial isolation, slowly warming visually as the character begins healing. Critical to Ben’s journey is their enrollment in high school, balancing new relationships, jobs, and responsibilities while learning honesty and self-care.
Corey Fogelmanis delivers a quietly powerful performance, showcasing Ben’s vulnerability and inner strength in layered detail. Their subtle physicality, unclenching shoulders, brighter demeanor, and dancing down the street reflect Ben’s emotional blossoming with tender authenticity.
These elements together paint a nuanced picture of a young person’s fight for dignity and understanding beyond binary limitations, echoing deeply with queer youth today.
Beyond Stereotypes: Art, Empathy, and the Power of Support
Unlike many queer-themed films that concentrate on sensational trauma or aim to “explain” LGBTQ identities for outsiders, this film chooses a different route.
Dorfman’s direction focuses on quiet, everyday moments that allow Ben to genuinely express themselves through art and embrace their identity without the need for justification. The relationship with Ms. Lyons, a warm and quirky art teacher played by Lena Dunham, becomes a central pillar of support.
Lyons encourages Ben to explore and convey their feelings visually, turning art into a medium of self-validation and liberation. This choice to spotlight artistic expression enriches the story’s emotional core, revealing the complexity and softness of queer identity.

I Wish You All The Best (Credit: Lionsgate Films)
The film also features genuine chemistry between Ben and Nathan , a kind-hearted fellow student, depicting a supportive and tender young romance. These narrative choices highlight that acceptance is not a grand event but a series of small, profound gestures, a theme often overlooked in queer cinema.
This story embraces queerness in its full specificity with empathy, refusing easy platitudes and instead portraying the messy, hopeful reality shared by many trans and nonbinary individuals.
Quiet Revolution: Shaping How Queer Stories Are Told
“I Wish You All The Best” stands out because it breaks away from typical queer film tropes such as extreme victimization or overly dramatic conflicts. The challenges Ben faces are poignant but realistic, presenting internal struggles and familial conflicts with sensitivity rather than spectacle.
The parents’ attempts at reconciliation are portrayed with nuance; they are neither vilified nor excused, showing the complexity of these difficult family dynamics. This approach allows the story to feel honest and unforced, creating space where queer lives are allowed to be complicated and imperfect.
Dorfman’s own experience as a transgender individual adds depth to the storytelling, translating into a film that feels deeply personal yet universally relatable for LGBTQ people and allies alike.
The quiet but powerful portrayal has sparked conversations about representation, showing that depicting queerness in its authenticity can be revolutionary by simply presenting it as a normal part of life.
As such, this film contributes significantly to the evolving cinematic landscape by offering validation and hope, even softness without condescension, enriching the cultural conversation about identity and acceptance.
Through its subtle yet profound storytelling, “I Wish You All The Best” captures the specific realities of trans and nonbinary youth with respect and kindness.
The film’s honest portrayal of rejection, self-expression, and the gradual building of supportive communities makes it a must-watch for those interested in nuanced queer narratives.
In a media environment often eager for drama, this film’s gentle but firm message that queer lives are multifaceted and deserving of empathy and understanding makes a lasting impact.